A Dream that Just Wouldn't Die
by Willow1593
Summary: He hadn't meant to.  He really, really hadn't meant to.  But when a "chance" encounter with Ianto ten years later leads to a reunion, what could he do but run with it? Presumes Jack never came back after S1, ignores the rest of canon.


He hadn't meant to. He really, really hadn't meant to.

That was what Jack kept telling himself, as he strode across the Plass with the Doctor on that cold winter evening. They were there for refuelling. Just refuelling.

And Jack kept telling himself that it was purely his stir-craziness at being trapped in one place for the evening (even if that place was the Tardis) which had made him suggest dinner at a little Japanese place he knew, while they waited. The Time Lord had raised an eyebrow - "Japanese? In Cardiff?" - but had made no further comment.

Said Time Lord was now wandering slowly about ten paces behind Jack, whose frantic pace seemed almost to suggest that he was in a hurry. Not that he was. He was just cold. Yes, that was it. The cold. That was strange in itself, Jack thought (not a deliberate distraction, not a deliberate distraction), why wasn't the Doctor doing his usual getting-into-trouble-then-running-really-fast thing? Jack turned to hasten him forward, but the Time Lord just waved a lazy hand and continued at his own sweet pace. Maybe he didn't feel the cold? Yes, that would be it. Jack swivelled on the spot, coat sweeping outward...

There.

Across the road, frozen, clearly having spotted Jack at precisely the same time Jack spotted him. The suit was as neatly pressed as he remembered, the shape beneath it fundamentally the same, though perhaps slightly larger. But there were tiny crows feet around the bright blue eyes. They hadn't been there before. And yet. Ten years had not changed as much as might have been expected.

Despite himself, Jack felt his very soul lift at the sight of Ianto.

The younger man seemed paralysed with indecision, but there was no way to pretend that the recognition hadn't been mutual, so Jack raised a hand in greeting.

He seemed to see a battle cross Ianto's features, then they returned to the carefully polite expression he remembered. Jack stood rooted to the spot as Ianto crossed the road towards him, and held out a hand to be shaken.

Ignoring it, Jack could not help himself from pulling the younger man into a tight embrace. This was returned, carefully. Always so careful, Jack remembered.

They stared into each others' eyes.

"Ianto."

"Jack."

"How have you been?"

"Well, thank you."

"Good."

"..."

"Do you still work for Torchwood?"

"Yes. Rhys joined when you went, until he and Gwen had the kids."

"Kids?"

"Three. Gwen and Rhys take turns doing shifts to cover the childcare."

"Ah."

"And Tosh?"

"She and Owen got married three years ago."

"That's good, I always thought they'd be good together. And..."

There was an awkward silence. Jack stared into the blue eyes, so bright, power undiminished by age or experience, and willed his expression to show everything that he was feeling, had felt, and his remorse and sorrow for the mistakes he had made so long ago. There was a small widening of the pupils, then, and Jack realised he had been understood. He gathered all his courage together and

"Ianto, I lo-"

"Hello, hello, hello!"

Typical Doctor. He always had had the worst timing in the multiverse.

Ianto's gaze moved almost instantaneously sideways to the new arrival. His expression became interested, curious, but somehow also carefully neutral.

"You're the Doctor."

"Yes, well done," the Time Lord said beamingly. "And you? I'm afraid I don't think I've had the pleasure of being introduced."

"This is Ianto Jones," interrupted Jack, pretending not to notice the sharp look which the Time Lord shot him. Damn, he'd hoped that the name wouldn't be recognised. Should have known better. It hadn't been ten years for them, and it _was_ the Doctor.

"I recognised the photograph from your file, Doctor. So, what are you doing in Cardiff?" Ianto seemed to be suddenly avoiding Jack's gaze, which had yet to waver from his face.

"Well, we just arrived to borrow your rift for a bit. Refuelling, and all that. Whilst we're waiting, since you seem to have all potential alien threats so wonderfully under control, Jack promised me this lovely little Japanese restaurant, which he swears is as good as that one in the Tokugawa Era on Japan Epsilon III."

"Not _Sakura_?"

Jack nodded uncomfortably.

"So you know it then? Is it as good as I've been led to believe?"

"Yes. I was, in fact, on my way there now, for a... prior appointment."

"Wonderful, you can show us the way! Since my companion here appears to have been rooted to the spot."

A long finger poked Jack in the ribs, and he looked away. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea, Ianto has other business..."

"Nonsense!" Was the Doctor being deliberately irritating and obtuse? Probably. "We're all going the same direction, right? It's not like we're going to invade his meeting. Or is it a hot date?"

Jack flinched.

"Certainly, I'd be happy to show you the way." Ianto started to walk across the road, Doctor alongside, and Jack following along dazedly. "So, Doctor, I'd love to hear about some of your adventures..."

He really, really hadn't meant to. He kept telling himself that. It was purely accidental that the restaurant he had chosen was the place of the yearly Torchwood Anniversary Dinner. He had completely forgotten that today was the 26th of January, date of said anniversary. And even if he hadn't _entirely _forgotten, how could he have known that ten years later, they were still going to the same restaurant?

Jack shook his head. He'd always been terrible at believing his own lies.

When they had entered the restaurant, there had been no choice but to join the reunion with the Torchwood group, especially once Toshiko, having apparently got over the shock of her former boss' reappearance in the door, had grabbed the Doctor and demanded an explanation of the TARDIS' mainframe. Owen looked as though he had many things that he'd wanted to say to Jack, but just couldn't think of them at the moment, so with a shrug had put an arm around his wife and listened in.

On seeing Jack, Gwen looked as though she was threatening to burst into tears or hit him – apparently some things never changed. Rhys was more restrained, and the two of them were soon distracted by their children, the youngest of whom appeared to have a special attachment to Ianto and had grabbed him like a limpet as soon as they entered the restaurant.

So that left Jack, between an animated conversation about the nature of time on his left ("wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff" could apparently be defined better, but only if you were Tosh or the Doctor), and what appeared to be a regular argument about the merits of painting a bedroom pink between the nine year old girl on his left and her father. Gwen kept trying to engage him in a discussion of childcare methods, to little avail. Ianto and his limpet (Petra? Was that the name? He really wasn't feeling very good at paying attention this evening) sat across from him.

The oasis of silence between them was deafening.

Pretending to pay attention as Gwen nattered on about homework timetables and checking boundaries, Jack absent-mindedly reached across with his chopsticks to pick up a piece of sushi.

His chopsticks met another pair in mid-air, and they collided with a tiny crack.

Somehow, that was the loudest sound at the table.

"Please, feel free." He gestured to the small kappamaki.

"No, no." Ianto was just as studiously polite. Both of them appeared to be suddenly very interested in the small piece of rice and cucumber, surrounded by seaweed.

"No, that collision was entirely my fault." Jack shuffled uncomfortably. When had the rest of the table stopped talking?

"I'm sure that Patricia would prefer the salmon anyway." Now Jack was sure that everyone was listening to them. The round eyes of the limpet were making him even more nervous for some reason, and Gwen shooting worried and confused glances at them _really_ wasn't helping. He focused his attention even further on the offending foodstuff.

"Ianto, please, just take it."

They looked up simultaneously, met each others' eyes once more.

There was a pause.

Suddenly, Ianto shuddered, and with a muttered "excuse me," firmly removed the child from his lap and fled out of the restaurant. Jack's eyes followed.

"You need to go."

"Hmm?"

The Doctor was more insistent, this time. "Go. Let me guess, it was no coincidence that we came here, tonight. You were hoping to run into him. Even if you don't admit it to yourself. If you don't go now, then you're invalidating everything you came here to do. You love him. Go."

Why did Time Lords have to be so bloody omniscient?

Without so much as a goodbye, Jack flung back his chair and raced out.

It was raining, now. Cold, and wet. Jack's least favourite combination. He raced through the streets, not really sure where his feet were taking him, just glad to be doing _something._

When he found Ianto, he was sitting on a park bench. The bright eyes were staring lifelessly into space, and if it hadn't been for the fact that it would be ridiculous, he'd have sworn that Ianto was weeping silently. It must have been the rain.

"Ianto, I love you."

"I know." It was a steady tone, expressionless.

Jack sat down at the other end of the bench. "I know I should never have left. But after... well. The Master, an evil Time Lord took a year of my life, and he hurt me so much that I needed, just, needed to run, I suppose. And then I kept running and running and-"

"Stop it. You don't need to explain yourself to me."

"But I do, because, I love you. I've met so many men, women, aliens over the past Ten years, but I just... they all remind me of you. And I don't even know why, but when we needed to refuel, and I suggested Cardiff, and... God. It was an accident, but I've been in love with you for the past ten years, from the moment I met you, and I just had to tell you."

Ianto's head was bowed over hunched shoulders, now. "Stop it. Stop it. Stop it! I can't do this again, Jack."

"What?"

"Love you. I just... can't. It's been ten years, and I spent them trying to survive without you. So I learned. And Jack, you're years too late. I had to survive, so I did. And I can't love anyone else, but I can't love you any more either because it hurts too much. So just go."

"But I'm back, I'll never leave you again!" Jack reached out a hand across the miles between them, but somehow, Ianto's shoulder remained just out of reach.

"Which bit of 'too late' do I need to repeat? I... used to love you. But I don't, I can't, I _won't_ anymore." There was no eye-contact, only the return of that awful blank tone.

"The TARDIS is a time machine, I can go back to when I left, I'll make you keep loving me!"

"So why haven't you already gone? You can't, can you? Because these ten years, we built up Torchwood, we saved the world so many times that to change anything, even so small, could be disastrous. You're a fixed point, Jack. So's Torchwood. They don't mix."

There was a silence. This was the bit that Jack hated, the bit where Ianto was _always right_.

"Are you sure? That you can't..."

"I used to love you. Now I don't. Goodbye, Jack."

Without so much as a backward glance, Ianto Jones got up off the bench an walked away into the pouring rain of that January night.


End file.
